


Remains of Remnant

by siren_of_the_ocean



Series: Tim Drake AU's [35]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: All FNAF warnings apply, BAMF Tim Drake, Blood and Injury, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, Hurt Tim Drake, Implied Child Murder, Kon-El | Conner Kent Needs a Hug, Mix of book lore and game lore, Temporary Character Death, Tim Drake Angst, Tim Drake Needs a Hug, Tim Drake is Not Okay, Tim Drake is something, Tim Drake-centric, Undead Tim Drake?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-02-22
Packaged: 2021-03-12 05:53:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,043
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29630073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siren_of_the_ocean/pseuds/siren_of_the_ocean
Summary: When Kon is injured, Tim has no choice to save him in the only way he can think of. The same way Henry had saved him so many years ago.Unfortunately, he is also surrounded by his friends and family who have no idea what's going on.
Relationships: Bart Allen & Tim Drake, Tim Drake & Henry Emily, Tim Drake & Kon-El | Conner Kent
Series: Tim Drake AU's [35]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1853161
Comments: 4
Kudos: 89





	Remains of Remnant

**Author's Note:**

> Please note: All FNAF warnings apply.

All Tim can remember, all Tim can see, is Kon going down. 

Bruises on his face, blood on his chest, slowly dripping down.   
Kon collapses and Tim can’t stop the feeling of despair. He’s already lost Kon once. He won’t lose him again.   
Metallo falls quickly under the onslaught of an enraged Wonder Girl, fists denting and bending metal as she unleashes her rage and grief. 

Tim just runs for his friend. 

Kon’s breathing is shallow, wheezing as if something clogs his airways. His ribs jerk as he inhales and exhales. He’s hurt badly.   
This time, at least, Kon is surrounded by friends and family, even as he struggles to breathe.   
Clark is present but fluttering. He doesn’t know what to do. Can’t help Kon while he’s still recovering from Kryptonite exposure. 

But Tim can.   
Tim can help his friend. His dying friend.   
He can keep his friend from dying. 

It isn’t pretty, the way that Tim pushes on his side until something sharp pierces through skin and flesh. As such, Tim makes a point of it to hide what he’s doing from the others, covering the actions with his cape.   
Plucking the piece of sharp metal from his side, Tim breathes deeply through the pain and keeps his eyes locked on Kon’s.   
He’s dying. 

Tim doesn’t hesitate when he sees Kon’s breathing get shallower. Ignores the questions and calls and horrified voices as he slips the sharp piece of metal under Kon’s skin at his wrist.   
“1. 2. 3. 3. 4. 5. 6. 7. 8. 9. 10” Tim counts softly as he watches Kon’s chest go still.   
And then helps his friend up when Kon lurches forward, coughing and spluttering, black substance dripping from his lips. 

“Bart. Go get me a cloth and a glass of water, please” Tim orders, only listening enough to hear the Whoosh of Bart obeying his order before he turns his attention back to Kon’s spluttering form.   
“Breathe, Kon. You need to breathe” Tim whispers, rubbing his hand up and down Kon’s back in a motion that is hopefully soothing enough to break through the pain Kon must be in.   
“Breathe, Kon”

The first breath stings like needles down Kon’s throat, Tim knows. Causing another round of coughing and spluttering. But Kon’s chest moves with the breath, expanding and shrinking as it should.   
Breathing, check. 

Tim’s hand moves to Kon’s jaw to check his pulse, even with the spluttering, and Tim isn’t surprised not to find a pulse. One solid thump to Kon’s chest later and Tim can almost see it restart in the way Kon’s colour comes back.   
Heartbeat, check. 

Tim’s eyes then glance from wound to wound, cataloguing and categorising each wound as well as he can.   
“Internal bleeding. Blood loss. Clogged airways. Possible broken bones” Tim murmurs, stopping only when Clark’s hand comes to a rest on Tim’s shoulder. Looking up, Tim can see a confusing mess of emotions in Clark’s expression.   
Relief, happiness, joy. Rage, grief, sadness. Confusion and awe.

“This won’t last forever. We need to get him somewhere they can help him. Maybe a sun lamp too, just to speed up the healing. This” Tim says, drawing attention again to the piece of metal still stuck in Kon’s wrist “Is a temporary fix”  
Tim can see the questions they want to ask. Interrogation on the tip of Batman’s tongue before Bruce sees the stricken look on Tim’s face. He relents.   
“We can take him to the fortress” Clark suggests before Tim reminds him “Not enough sunlight. Plus, you can’t fly yet”.   
“Mount Justice?” Cassie asks as she pants, having overheard everything that has been said over the comms. She falters as she sees the state Kon is in, but then takes a breath and straightens her shoulders. 

Bart is the one to shoot that down, reappearing in front of Cassie with a glass of water and a damp towel. Kon is still retching, coughing up black blood as he bends over. But Tim knows that he’ll want the towel and the water soon after.   
“Not enough sun. And Kon can’t fly”   
“I might have a contact we could stay with, in the area” Tim interjects as he wipes Kon’s face with the towel, meeting Kon’s tired eyes to offer him the glass of water. 

“167 Anne Avenue” Tim says as Wonder Woman leans down to pick Kon up. He’s still weak. Recovering, but slowly.   
Without even acknowledging the many questions thrown at him from the others, Tim turns ad walks toward the address given. 

It’s a lonely house, with 2 stories, a workshop and a single car in the driveway, surrounded by trees.   
“Henry!” Tim calls out as he knocks on the door.   
It doesn’t take long for an older looking man to appear in the doorway. 

The man is slight, skinny and frail. A light flannel draped over his shoulders and dark jeans hanging from his hips.   
However, Henry’s eyes are sharp, dark brown, matching his hair as he stares at the heroes gathered on his doorstep.   
There is no recognition in his eyes, 

At least, not until Tim sighs and pulls the cowl from his head, meeting Henry’s almost black eyes with his own piercing blue.   
Then, Henry startles, jerking back as his breath hitches in his throat.   
“Please, Henry. Kon’s hurt. Please” Tim begs, still keeping eye-contact with the man until Henry opens the door wider, allowing Tim and the others into his home. 

The place looks the same, Tim thinks to himself with a smile before heading to the backdoor.   
Kon needs sunlight. Being inside won’t do him any good. 

“Am I allowed to ask what’s going on?” Henry asks quietly, his tone wary as he looks down at the injured Superboy.   
It’s then that Henry sees the sliver of metal in Kon’s wrist, dripping black. His eyes widen and he turns to Tim to grab Tim’s shoulders, eyes dragging across Tim’s body until he sees the darker red stain on the side of his ribs.   
Cursing, Henry then drags Tim inside by his arm. Tim allows it, genially as everyone starts getting ready for another fight.   
Until they see the bloody hand Henry’s pressing against his side, stemming the blood flow from the wound. 

“You absolute idiot. You know your state is fragile. You know that you’re keeping a delicate balance, as is” Henry says as he forces Tim down into a lawn chair, before he turns to Bart with keen eyes “Get a med kit. Under the sink in the upstairs bathroom” he orders, not flinching when Bart disappears a moment later.   
Henry then turns to Tim with a glare, tugging at his cape and cowl in a gesture for Tim to remove it.   
“Off. I need to get to the wound you made” Henry demands, kicking Tim into action as he disables the traps in his cape and shirt. 

It’s then that the small, deep wound between Tim’s ribs is exposed to the gaze of his friends and family.   
Bruce can’t seem to stop his hand from reaching out to Tim, stopping himself midway through with a sharp breath. Even Clark looks concerned as Henry puts pressure on Tim’s side.   
The worry just increases exponentially when everyone can see the impressions of sharp pieces of metal imprinting against his skin. 

“You could have removed one from your lungs. Or your intestines. Or your heart” Henry grumbles, still not stopping the lecture, even as Tim lets out a pained hiss of “I knew what I was doing, Henry”.   
“So you decided to do it anyway? What if you picked the wrong shard and accidentally killed yourself? What if you deplenished your remnant levels so much that you died? What if it didn’t work that way for your friend and he became like the children?” Henry demands as he continues to stitch up Tim’s side, seeming desensitized to the poke of sharp metal against the inside of Tim’s skin.   
“I knew what I was doing” Tim rebukes again. 

Henry just sighs. 

“OK. Pause here. What the hell is going on?” Cassie asks, hands waving in a “woah” motion as she stares at the wound in Tim’s side.   
Henry twitches as he finishes up the last of the stitches, staring Tim down with dark eyes, even as Tim refuses to look away from his friend on another lawn chair. 

“Years ago, I made a mistake, teaming up with the wrong person” Henry starts, Tim’s eyes snapping to his in question but Henry doesn’t back down. 

“He was charismatic and charming. But that was a façade. In truth, he used that image to take part in unforgivable crimes. 5 children died by his hand. 5. And those were only the first. I have no idea how many have actually died by his hand. My daughter. My daughter was one of them” Henry goes on, choking up at the mere mention of Charlotte.   
“Then, one day, I found one of his victims. A young boy. But he wasn’t dead. Not yet, at least. I brought him home and did what I could.  
“Afton’s preferred method of killing was to place the children inside of springlock suits. The moisture and movement would set off the springlocks and they would be impaled by all the structural supports the springlocks kept in place.   
The children generally died quickly. 

But this boy. This one boy. Didn’t.   
He figures out how the springlocks worked and kept them mostly at bay. But there are so many springlocks on a suit. And even trained employees have trouble keeping them all locked.   
A few slipped through. But he was alive when I found him, still fighting to keep the springlocks at bay. 

It just…wasn’t possible.   
I tried to help. I did what I could to help him keep them at bay but there are hundreds of them. And moving him had just made it worse.   
By the time I managed to get most of the suit off of him, the boy was already skewered in multiple places, some through his torso. The sharp metal was keeping him from bleeding out.   
If I did nothing, the boy would die. If I did something, the boy would surely die.   
But I helped. I did what I could. 

I cut off some of the springlocks, sealing them inside his body while I worked to free the suit.   
But it was all in vain.   
The boy bled to death on my table. Just another child I couldn’t save. 

But that wasn’t it. Minutes later, the boy sat up and started coughing black blood.   
He was alive. But he wasn’t. Not truly. The blood was proof of that” Henry finished, not looking up from the bandages he’s wrapping around Tim’s ribs.   
It wouldn’t take a genius to find out who the boy was. Not with the memory of sharp metal imprints against Tim’s skin. 

“If the boy wasn’t alive…and he wasn’t dead…what was he?” Batman asks, a voice to the question they all seemed to have. Even Kon looks interested. Tim can’t meet their eyes.   
“Well that’s a difficult question. You see, when metal and soul fuse, it creates something my previous colleague and I called remnant. A soul infused metal. I think that the boy’s soul, in the moments that he was dead, fused to the metal still in his body and thus trapped his spirit inside of his body” Henry answers delicately.   
Neither he, nor Tim want to explain the children or the animatronics.   
This explanation would have to be enough. 

“No more questions, please” Henry says when Bruce opens his mouth, before Henry takes in Kon’s healthy colour, even breathing and now-healed bruises.   
“Take it out. I don’t think it’s been completely fused yet so we should just be able to remove the splinter” Tim voices as he gestures to Kon’s wrist.   
Henry seems to agree, as he takes hold of the metal still outside of Kon’s flesh and pulls. Kon lets out a grunt of pain but doesn’t react further, just breathing deeply as the wound heals over. 

Henry meets Tim’s eyes as everyone swarms Kon with concerned faces and questions on their lips.   
Tim nods. 

No more questions.   
It isn’t their secret to tell.


End file.
